“Oh fuck, Hell Cat, don’t do this to me. You’ve got to survive, to punish this S.O.B.”
I go down flat on my ass, feeling the hurt and pain seep into my system. I let another woman down; I was too late yet again. I reach out for her hand, needing to hold it… To take just a minute to tell her how sorry I am for letting her down. I pull her hand to me and yell out in denial as I see her fingers. Her beautiful hand, that I’ve felt slide over my body countless times in the last little bit is now almost as unrecognizable as her face. Her fingers have been broken and they’re swollen and distorted, bending in ways I’m not sure can ever be straightened. Then I notice she has no small finger. It has been cut right at the base of the hand. The wound is open, angry, and so infected that if she were still breathing… Motherfucker.
I scream out in denial, as I pull her broken body over to my lap and I hold her hand in mine. She feels warm—not overly warm, but still she is not cold like death. I know because I have held death. I have seen death. I use my free hand to brush her face gently, because she’s endured so much abuse you can barely make out the distinction of her features.
“I’ll get him Hell Cat. I’ll get him and make him pay, darlin’.”
I kiss her forehead in goodbye and slide her off my lap when I hear it… It’s faint, very faint, but I latch onto it immediately.
“Zander,” her voice whispers, it is disjointed and full of pain.
“Oh fuck darlin’, you are hanging on. That’s my Hell Cat. I knew you had balls of steel. Let’s get you home.”
It takes me awhile, and I’m worried every fucking minute that we’re about to be discovered. But, I manage to get her loaded into my truck. Every movement causes her pain. I find myself wishing she’ll let herself sink back down into unconsciousness.
“Hang on a little longer, Hell Cat. Just a little longer and I’ll have you at the hospital.”
“No.”
It was one syllable but the terror in her hoarse whispered voice spoke volumes.
“Hell Cat.”
“Married. He’ll…please, Zander.”
Dani had never asked for anything. I didn’t even know the word please was in her vocabulary. I should concentrate on that, but I find I can’t. Instead I focus on the word that I do not like. The one word that makes me embrace anger. Married. My Hell Cat doesn’t know it, but she’s going to be a widow pretty fucking soon.
I call Doc and arrange to have him meet us at the club. Then I try constantly to call Dragon. Each time the call goes unanswered and I’m asked to leave a message, my gut clinches. Fuck. I hope I wasn’t too late.
My foot pressers harder on the accelerator, but inside I feel like time has run out.
Chapter 21
Nicole
Is it possible to function and be dead on the inside? I never really thought about it. Right now, I am thinking about it every minute. I’m forcing myself to go through the motions, but I just want to disappear.
It has been four days. Four long days since I’ve lost Dragon. I can’t sleep, I don’t eat and most days getting dressed is just too big of a chore. I haven’t heard from Michael. I thought I would, especially after Crusher brought Dani home. Yet, there’s not been a word.
Bull has locked the club down. No one is allowed out and very few get through the gates. The families of the men have all piled in and it should be my job to make sure everyone has a bed and the kids are entertained, but I haven’t bothered. Hell, I guess technically it wouldn’t be my job now. It would be whoever Bull designates. Crusher was the VP, but apparently he is not real high with the men of the club right now. He’s also spending every waking minute with Dani.
Dani. Shit. She’s in bad shape. I want to help her, but I can’t even help myself. Carrie and the others have been working with her. They’ll take care of her. I can’t look at Dani. Part of it is guilt, because I should have called off the wedding. A bigger part of it is anger because she brought Michael into my life and it cost me Dragon. I feel ashamed every time I think that, I know I cost Dragon his life. I should have told him from day one about Michael. I should have told him about Dani from the moment we started a relationship, but I didn’t. I didn’t call off the wedding, I didn’t warn Dragon. I didn’t do anything and I am the one who killed Dragon—even if I didn’t plant the bomb.
Will Michael leave us alone now that he’s had a small part of his revenge? I’d like to think so, but I don’t. I know he is just sitting back, biding his time until he strikes again. I should be preparing for that. I’m not.
A light knock on my door brings me out of my thoughts. I don’t make a move to respond or answer. Again, it’s just too much damn effort.